


Explosions, Waiting, and Ice Cream

by Cryptidghost



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hanging Out, Ice Cream, Ice Cream Parlors, No Plot/Plotless, Tooka Cats (Star Wars), cody being disgruntled about being asked certain questions in public, jerrin is glowstick and wrecker lives for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptidghost/pseuds/Cryptidghost
Summary: After a long day, Echo suggests that the team goes out for ice cream. Everyone agrees.
Kudos: 9





	Explosions, Waiting, and Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I tried writing in present tense as a challenge and it sure was one! I tried to edit and tweak this fic as much as I could, but I'm still a tad bit unsatisfied with some areas. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

“Aw, shit.” A loud explosion sets off a purging ring throughout the valley and for a moment, everything is blindingly bright, even under the shielded visor of Jerrin’s helmet. The trees, grasses, and bushes bristle and Jerrin closes his eyes and turns away from the blast on his outcropping of rock miles away. A roll of heat laps at his back and he stumbles forward at a gust of air. Let the Almighty Great Mother know that Wrecker, without warning, set off possibly one of the biggest explosions Jerrin has seen him pull to this day. Well, was it without warning? He did let out a laugh over the comm channel when Hunter asked if he had set all the charges and whatnot. Apparently he had set some on some highly explosive materials.

The fringe Separatist base is now a sweltering heap of fire, the central spire of the base melting and the tip of it crashing to the ground. It’s kind of beautiful—Jerrin notes after turning himself back around—in a weird, morbid way. They’re on some near outer rim planet, former Separatist territory, tasked to infiltrate the base to capture the sector’s Separatist leader and bring her back to Commander Cody so he could take her to Coruscant for trial. Whether or not the base was destroyed after her capture was up to them. There had really only been droids and outdated information and schematics at the base. The only other thing of that could have been of some importance was a link to another fringe Separatist group, but Tech had already intercepted a transmission to that group before they even set foot in the valley. Being able to blow up the base was Wrecker’s gift for the day. It had been a been a few weeks since Wrecker’s last decent explosion. They all noticed how antsy he was getting in the last two days, him being all excited about this mission. What none of them expected was for the explosion to be this huge.

Taking his eyes off of the base, Jerrin caught sight of the nearby local flora starting to catch fire. That would be a problem. Hopefully Hunter would alert the nearby forces and civilian responders that lie on the other side of the taller mountain of the fire.

“Mir’osik!” Jerrin hisses into the comm, “Wrecker, a little warning next time?” A collective agreement from the other four supported Jerrin’s sentiment. Some of the words were a little less forgiving than Jerrin’s.

“Aw, but it’s so pretty!” Wrecker whines. “Look at it,” a sniff, “I did that!”

“ _That_ was incredibly risky. And foolish. What if one of us was still down there, Wrecker? We’ve done this how many times? And _now_ you slip up?” Crosshair cuts in before Hunter could get a word. “Big explosion, very cool, wow. Personally, I would like the hair to stay on my head and the meat to stay on my bones and be alive.”

“And I would have liked to gone the rest of the day and tomorrow without a migraine,” Hunter sighs.

“Sorry,” Wrecker’s voice droops, “I just—I got ahead of myself. You said I could do a really big one this time, Sarge, and I guess I got ahead of myself.” A few seconds of comm silence follow his statement.

“Let’s just group back up. We’re not done yet,” Hunter says eventually.

“Is Vydalia Creshet in one piece?” Tech asks.

“Uh, yeah. She’s squinting though. Can’t tell if that’s at me or from the explosion.” Wrecker responds.

“Let’s assume both.”

The trek to the rendezvous point takes longer than Jerrin anticipates. Jerrin was given the worst area to cover this time around. And for what? He just ate two cookies from Crosshair’s stash as a way to get back for his missing flask of Corellian whiskey. If anything, Crosshair deserves this area. Jerrin maneuvers his way around the outcroppings and rocky surface, muttering his regrets about never figuring out how to finally get the hang of jetpacks. A Mandalorian who can’t fly well? Pitiful. Jerrin looses his footing twice on the climb back down to the relatively level ground, nearly slipping and falling. Overhead a couple of ships fly by, likely carrying water to douse the spreading fire in the valley. Wrecker is definitely going to get reprimanded for this.

A few more minutes and Jerrin was on the ground, boots crunching on a few fallen branches. Rustling to his left caused Jerrin to stop and turn, eyes scanning between the thick trees. A lone B2 steps its way out from behind a tree, aiming its wrist at Jerrin. Jerrin hits the ground in a roll, blaster fire streaking above his head and into the rocky surface behind him. He unholsters his blaster and aims at its chest before its able to shoot again. Jerrin shoots twice. Then once in the head for good measure. The B2 falls back and Jerrin stands, twirling his blaster and holstering it back in before setting off towards the point once more.

“What was that?” Hunter asks over the comm channel.

“Just a lone B2,” Jerrin replies.

“Any more?”

“Nope.”

Jerrin finally makes his way into the point—a small forest path surrounded by a circle of trees—the others idly waiting by. Tech is looking at his vambrace, while the others are really just standing there. Staring. Vydalia Creshet is leaning against a tree, her hands bound in cuffs, and red eyes boring themselves into Jerrin’s visor.

“You’re a little slow,” she quips. Jerrin gives her the roll of his helmet.

“Now that we’re all here,” Hunter moves forward and pulls out a holoprojector with a map, “The second part.” He points to location not too far off from where they are standing now. “Apparently, there’s a cave in this area that has a cache of supplies. Don’t know if there’s any droids there or not, but regardless Tech, Crosshair, and I will secure the cave and call for the others while the rest of you take Vydalia back to the base. Speeders should be back where we left ‘em.” He clicks off the map and pockets the holoprojector. “Have fun. And Wrecker, don’t get into any more trouble.” Hunter points at him before sauntering off, Tech and Crosshair following.

“I wouldn’t!” Wrecker pouts.

“Come on Vydalia,” Jerrin moves over to the tree and grabs her forearm. “Time to go.” Vydalia looks at Jerrin with disinterest, but moves with him nonetheless. At most, Vydalia looks inconvenienced by the whole ordeal which concerns Jerrin. Either she has a relatively good sabacc face or is hiding something. Jerrin hopes it’s the former since he can’t sense much from her. Echo leads them to where the speeders were left and they take off, Vydalia riding in the seat behind Jerrin, Echo on a speeder to his right and Wrecker pulling up the rear.

The ride back to the outpost is more or less uneventful. A few troopers meet them after pulling up, taking Vydalia Creshet to a makeshift cell. One trooper mentions to Wrecker that he is to meet Commander Cody in his quarters, and Echo walks off to somewhere which leaves Jerrin to wander about the open hanger. He finds a crate near a wall and sits on it, taking out a throwing knife and fiddling with it to pass the time.

Jerrin looks up as Cody comes around the corner sometime later, “You chew his ass out?”

“Just a bit, yes,” he sighs, hand palming his forehead. “I didn’t think—I didn’t think it’d be that much of mess.”

“Neither did the rest of us,” Jerrin shrugs, pocketing the knife and crossing his arms. “Is he fine?”

“He looked like a kicked tooka,” Cody gives Jerrin a look, a flicker of regret in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine. We’ll get his mind off of it soon,” Jerrin shrugs. Cody nods and goes to walk away, likely to the holding cell that houses Vydalia. Jerrin catches his arm and leans closer, “How are you and Kenobi?” A sly grin makes its way onto Jerrin’s mouth that Cody can’t see.

Cody sputters for a second before answering, “We’re fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yes.”

“Taking my advice?” Jerrin tilts his head and Cody squints at Jerrin’s visor.

“We are.”

“Good, because if neither of you weren’t I’d probably kick both of your asses and lock you in a storage closet ‘til one of you did something.” Jerrin pats Cody’s arm. “Make sure not to break his heart or I’ll have your head.”

“You and Skywalker both,” Cody gives a sheepish look. “But I assure you, it won’t come to that. Now, if you will excuse me.” Cody pulls himself away from Jerrin and walks off. Jerrin goes back to fiddling with his knife while waiting for the rest of the Batch to show up. Wrecker comes around the corner and plops himself at Jerrin’s feet, holding his helmet in his lap.

_Exactly like a kicked tooka._

“You okay?” Jerrin asks, toeing Wrecker’s shoulder.

“Yeah, fine,” Wrecker says quietly. Jerrin pats his head. They sit in relative silence for a few minutes. Wrecker eventually reaches up for Jerrin’s hand and pulls him down to the floor with him, looping an arm around his shoulders and squeezes.

“I’m sorry,” Wrecker says.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. I’m not really mad about it. It just took me off guard for a bit.”

“I apologized to Commander Cody.”

“And you need to apologize to Hunter when he gets back. Maybe Crosshair. I think you gave him a scare there.”

“Yeah…” Wrecker sighs. He looks down at Jerrin and taps his visor with a thick finger, “You’re not glowing today.”

“Didn’t feel like turning the lights on.”

“But you always have the lights on.”

“Do I?”

“Uh, yeah?” Wrecker snorts. “Can you turn them on? I want to see them.”

“What color?” Jerrin moves his arms to press a few buttons on his left vambrace.

“Purple.” Jerrin taps the vambrace and the outline of his visor and the center piece of his chest plate light up, glowing a vibrant purple.

“There. Better?”

“Definitely,” Wrecker smiles down at Jerrin. They both settle and watch the fading sunset in silence together, a few of the base lights beginning to flicker on. Soon, they can just barely make out the others coming towards them on their speeders with a ship trailing above. Hunter must’ve commed Echo since he walks out from a door off to the left, helmet at his side. He walks over and looks down at both Jerrin and Wrecker.

“You’re glowing,” he notes.

“I am,” Jerrin says.

“Good,” his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Do you know if we have another assignment lined up?”

Jerrin shrugs, “Cody didn’t say anything when I talked to him a while ago. Why?”

Echo looks up as the rest draw nearer, “Thought we could go for ice cream if we have time.”

“With who’s money?”

“Yours of course. You _are_ our walking pocketbook.” Jerrin scoffs at that. Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair park their speeders off to the side and hop off, pulling their helmets off as they walk over. Behind them the ship lands and people flood out to help unload the supplies.

“You’re glowing again. Good.” Hunter notes.

Jerrin throws up his hands, “Kriff, can a man get some rest? Who knew that not having my lights on for one day would throw everyone for a loop and then one of them would beg me to put them back on?”

“Hey, I didn’t beg.” Wrecker frowns.

“Might as well have.”

“Hey, Sarge,” Echo catches Hunter’s attention, “Think we can go for ice cream?” Tech’s eyes brighten at the suggestion and Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

“Once I check in with the Commander. Then will see.” He tilts his head with a smirk then heads off to find Cody. Wrecker gets up and follows Hunter, stopping him a few feet away. Jerrin can’t quite make out what Wrecker is saying to Hunter as he looks down, likely apologizing for the earlier incident. Hunter says something and Wrecker’s shoulder slump, but he pats Wrecker’s arm and walks off to find Cody again. Wrecker comes back and takes his place beside Jerrin again.

Tech and Crosshair sit down in front of them. Echo looks around and then follows suit, filling up their little circle. Tech chatters away about the different parlors located in a nearby metropolitan area as he taps on a data pad he pulled from his pack, listing off their specialties, flavors, and generally anything worth noting. Apparently one of the shops boasts about having a “low key” atmosphere, whatever that means. Another specializes in Pantoran styles of ice cream and sorbet and another Tech shows visible disgust at. He turns the pad so everyone can see.

“Who would go here?” He asks. The shop has oversized furniture with dizzying patterns and loud colors and pictures on the walls. A few gigantic stuffed animals dot the interior. The ice cream counter is painted bright pinks and blues and little figurines of some holoshow characters line the top of the counter. Jerrin thinks Tech’s primary problem with the place is the color and patterns. It’d definitely make Tech and Hunter get a headache, hell, it even slightly makes himself a little sick looking at it.

“A child,” Crosshair and Jerrin say at the same time Wrecker says “me”. Jerrin and Crosshair look at each other and then Wrecker before breaking out laughing. Jerrin slaps his knee with so much force it stings.

“Hey! It looks fun!” Wrecker defends.

“If you say so,” Tech turns the pad back around, eyebrows furrowing, and his upper lip drawn up. He thumbs through a few more shops, discussing customer reviews and prices in addition to the specialties and flavors offered. By the time Hunter is back, they haven’t settled on any shop yet. At least they have it narrowed down to two. Hunter told them Cody didn’t have anything immediately lined up as of right now, so for all intents and purposes, it was perfectly okay to ditch and get ice cream.

“I vote the Pantoran shop. I’ve had Pantoran sorbet before and let me say, it’s pretty fucking bomb,” Jerrin suggests.

“Yeah, but, the ma and pa one though. It’s cute,” Echo counters. “Look at the owners,” Echo takes the pad of out Tech’s hands and pulls up their page, showing an older Mirialan couple standing in the shop, “Could you say no to them? Plus, they have not one, not two, but three tookas that hang out in the shop.”

“Fair point,” Jerrin sighs.

“I second the ma and pa,” Tech says. The other men nod in agreement. “It’s settled then,” Tech takes the pad, slips it back into his pack and stands up.

“Wait,” Jerrin says from the floor, “Uh, should we change?” He motions at himself and the others with his hand. “Cause uh, I wouldn’t want to give that poor couple a heart attack when we walk in. Imposing Mandalorian and scary commandos and ARC trooper and all.”

“You just want us in our civvies,” Crosshair chews on a toothpick.

Jerrin shrugs in response. “Maybe.”

“We’ll keep our armor on in case something comes up. And we’ll just enter the place without out our helmets on, casual-like,” Hunter says. “Come on,” he turns and walks to the Havoc Marauder. With a press of a button on his vambrace, the door opens, and stairs extend out for him to walk up. Once everyone settles in, Tech types in the coordinates to a docking platform within walking distance to the parlor. The trip takes about thirty minutes and most of that time is spent with Crosshair, Wrecker, and Jerrin throwing darts at a board on the other end of the ship with Echo keeping score. Crosshair is in the lead with Wrecker and Jerrin tied. A hard lurch of the ship as it lands causes the last of Crosshair’s darts to stray. When the ship is settled, Jerrin takes his turn, one hitting the inner bullseye, an eleven point triple ring, and the last hitting five points. Echo calls the game.

“Well, I hate to say it, but Crosshair,” Echo says with a smirk, “Jerrin just tied with you.”

“I’m last again?” Wrecker wails as Crosshair’s eye twitches.

“That’s for my whiskey,” Jerrin jabs a finger at Crosshair’s chest. Crosshair opens his mouth to remark back, but Hunter comes out of the galley.

“Don’t argue or you two won’t be getting ice cream.”

“I’m the one with the money,” Jerrin tells him. Hunter sends him a pointed look. “Fine.”

Tech comes from the cockpit and sets his helmet down on a small crate, “Now, like Hunter said, ‘casual-like’.” He makes way for the door, Hunter and Wrecker following.

“You know, the more y’all say that, the less casual we're gonna act. We stick out like sore thumbs without the helmets anyways,” Jerrin says.

“Exactly the reason why I said it.” At that, Jerrin tilts his head in confusion. He turns to take his helmet off and sets it next to Tech’s as the others get off the ship. Crouching down to view himself in a off data screen, Jerrin lets loose his tied up braids and hair and pats any stray hairs down. They set off towards the ice cream shop once he hops out.

They do garner some looks from a few of the locals, but most are too busy being invested in the night market that is taking place in the central plaza. Warm, dangling lights with intricate designs hang from poles between the vendors and a small band plays around a central fountain. Jerrin flicks a few credits into a case when they pass by. Tech points to a quiet corner in the plaza, hurrying his step minutely. Jerrin pushes his way to the front of the group before one of them has the chance to go through the doors.

“Let me go in first. I have the prettiest face after all,” Jerrin walks through the doors. The older Mirialan woman from the image Echo showed is idly wiping down a dark green counter, her grey streaked hair bound in ribbon. A few people sit at wooden tables around the shop. A painted mural of the planet’s natural landscape takes up a portion of the right wall and some climb towers and trees for the tookas dot the interior. One grey tooka is sitting on a nearby tree, watching the group file in with lazy eyes. An assortment of plants hang in the windows. The woman looks up from her task, eyes wide for the briefest moment before her face relaxes and she smiles, crow’s feet crinkling around her eyes. She sets down her rag and smooths her apron, moving towards the front of the counter where the ice cream sits. She rests her arms above the glass.

“Hello there!” She says with enthusiasm.

“Hello,” Jerrin responds with a smile.

“I like your markings,” she says to Jerrin and taps her cheek. “Pretty color. Quite a crowd you’ve got,” she tilts her head, “I’m Dera. What can I get ya?”

“I will have two scoops of the brecca nut and cheese swirl in a cone, please.” Tech walks up to the counter. Wrecker and Echo make faces at his order.

“A good choice!” Dera scoops his ice cream and hands it to him. “What else?”

“Can I have,” Wrecker starts chin in hand, his eye looking between all the flavors, “Uh, can I get multiple flavors?”

“Of course.”

“Then I want a scoop of the chocolate, confetti, and the jelly one in a cup. Can I have those too?” He points at the canister of sprinkles and the syrup that sit on top of the glass. Dera nods.

“How much do you want?”

“As much as you can give me,” Wrecker responds which gets a laugh out of Dera. When she’s done she hands him his ice cream. Hunter orders a scoop of vanilla in a cup, Echo orders two scoops of cookies and cream in a cone, and Crosshair orders two scoops of chocolate covered starcherries in a cup. Jerrin bites his lip and hums, foot tapping the floor as he looks at the ice creams.

“Need any help deciding?” Dera asks.

“I'm curious about that one,” Jerrin points to an ice cream labeled ‘dark delight'.

“Oh, this one? Would you like to try it? It's chocolate with brecca nuts and a drizzle of jogan syrup swirled in.” She leans over the counter and stage whispers, “It’s my personal favorite.” Jerrin nods and she hands him a small spoon with the ice cream on it.

“Yep, I'll take two scoops of that in a cup, please.” He says immediately and Dera hands him his ice cream. Jerrin pays for their ice creams when she rings up their order, leaving a tip which Dera graciously thanks him for. Crosshair and Tech found their way to a long table in the back corner of the shop when Jerrin turns around. Hunter slides in next to Tech on the side that holds a bench, while Echo and Wrecker sit on chairs on the other side of the table with Crosshair, leaving Jerrin to sit next to Hunter. Jerrin props his feet up over one of Crosshair's thighs.

“Now what do we say?” Jerrin motions to the group with his spoon.

“Thank you.”

“You’re absolutely welcome.” Jerrin smiles as they dig in. A white tooka prances itself over and jumps up on the table, sniffing. It glances at all of them before nosing adamantly at Crosshair’s hand.

“Aww, Cross. I think it likes ya!” Wrecker laughs. The tooka paws at Crosshair’s chest and looks up expectantly.

“What?” Crosshair looks down at it. It paws again.

“Pet the poor creature, you stubborn stick.” Jerrin nudges his foot against Crosshair’s stomach. Crosshair shoots him a look before obliging. The tooka takes to his hand immediately and chirps, pleased. Crosshair pets it for some time until it wanders over to the others, basking in the attention its getting. For the next hour, the group busies themselves with whichever tooka decides to find interest in them. Crosshair ends up hogging the tookas, which leads to whines and protests from Wrecker, Echo, and Tech. When they finally leave the shop, a bright moon is hanging just above the horizon, adding another layer of glow to the plaza.

Tech and Jerrin glance at each other and break off from the group to look around the night market. Tech busies himself with inspecting various wares, fabrics, trinkets, and foods, typing away the finds on his vambrace and asks the vendors any questions that come to mind. Jerrin finds his interest in various needles and threads that an older Twi’lek woman is selling. Echo and Crosshair sit together on the lip of the fountain, glancing around the plaza. A different band is playing near the fountain now and Echo sways his head to the music, enjoying the calm strings. Hunter is standing nearby the fountain and looks on as Wrecker sidles up behind Jerrin. Wrecker shoves a hat that he took from another stall onto Jerrin’s head as he’s looking at a small lantern with Tech. Jerrin yelps and turns around, shoving at him. Both Wrecker and Tech laugh. Hunter crosses his arms and leans his weight onto one leg, shaking his head. He smiles, satisfied with the night.


End file.
